Stabbings, Prayers, and Death?
by Sandlesloveblooms
Summary: Summary: Greg is in a coma. Will he survive? I could not really think of a way to do the summary without telling the story


Stabbings, Praying, and Death?

Summary: Greg is in a coma. Will he survive? (I could not really think of a way to do the summary)

Disclamier: NO, otherwise every time you tuned into CSI you'd see me on the show.

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Stabbings, Prayers, and Death? 

Sara laid on the bed, curled up with her knees almost touching her chest, remembering the bloody body that was there just days ago.

(Flashback)

She had just put their 4-year-old daughter, Tara, to bed and was walking back to her and Greg's room.

Memories lined the walls, filling them up as they would the pages of a scrapbook. It held everything from their first date to when Tara was born, to their wedding day. She smiled fondly. Grasping the doorknob, she quietly opened the door, so not to wake up Greg.

The smile dropped off her face at the scene before her. Greg was lying on the bed, wearing nothing but boxers and bleeding profusely.

She ran over to him, the CSI in her being mindful of evidence. When she checked for a pulse it was barely even there.

She didn't care about anything except Greg. Without thinking about what she was doing, she carefully moved Greg off the bed and into her arms. She then moved him again to her car. Grabbing Tara, she loaded both into her car and sped to the hospital.

(End Flashback)

She has not heard anything about his progress since the doctor told him he was in a coma, hanging by a thread.

She would have stayed at the hospital, not leaving Greg's side, if she did not have her daughter to take care of too.

Now she just curled up in the same position Greg was when she found him. Tears poured down her face, the pillow absorbing them like a sponge. Her body shook with sobs. She was not even aware that she was shaking. Instead, she clenched fistfuls of the sheets.

Two tiny warm hands grabbed hers. "Mommy?"

The owner of the hands soft voice called from the edge of the imaginary bloodstained bed. Two familiar brown eyes peeked over the bed, followed by a full head of Greg's hair. Her daughter climbed onto the bed and sat in front of her. Her two pigtails swished across her shoulders as she did so, flashing a mixture between light brown and dark brown hair. Tara stared at her with those same eyes that she woke up to every day, filled with wisdom beyond their years but still carrying that childish gleam.

Greg's eyes.

She was wearing one of Greg's old Chess club shirts, which came down to her knees almost. Held in a death grip was the small stuffed tiger Greg gave her for her 2nd birthday. Tara carried it everywhere, the colors already fading.

Tara reminded her so much of her husband. Every look, every tear, every breath. She was a living piece of Greg. A piece of Greg that Sara will not lose.

Tara's own eyes begin filling up with tears and all Sara wanted to do right this very second was hold her daughter. Treasure what she's still got and never let it go.

"Come here, baby." Sara said, sitting up and opening her arms wide.

Tara instantly crawled into them and buried her face in her mother shoulder. "Mommy, daddy will be okay. I know he will. I can feel it in my heart. He's not dead." Tara whispered to her shattered mother.

She closed her eyes.

Sara laid back down and Tara snuggled into her. She listened as Tara's breath slowed and she started snoring softly. She held Tara and eventually was able to fall asleep too.

"Sara..." a feathery voice whispered. "Sara..."

Sara bolted up in her bed as the voice repeated her name. She looked around, seeing nothing but fog and smoke. She could not feel anything, could not taste anything. Not her daughter beside her or the fluffy texture of the comforter. She could not tastethe saltiness of her tears. It was as if she was banished to nothingness. A blank vortex of grey.

A figure appeared in the fog and began to approach her.

Sara did not move, did not even blink until she saw who the figure was. She ran to him, screaming his name.

"Greg! Greg!"

She reached him and practically jumped into his arms. "Oh, Greg! I can't-I miss you so much-I-" She stopped trying to form sentences and instead relished in the feel of his arms again.

"Sara." His voice sounded different. There was no love or passion. It sounded emotionless, dead.

"Greg...?" The tone of his voice caused her to break out of his arms and move a couple of inches away.

"Sara, you need to let go of me. You need to move on." The straightforwardness of his words brought tears to her almost dry eyes.

"Greg, how am I suppose to do this alone? I can't! I need you! Tara needs you!"

"Sara. You can do it. You are a great mother. You have to let go first. Start the healing process. I know you can do it. I believe in you." The emotion returned to his voice and Sara could see tears form.

"But Greg..."

"Just...come here." He opened his arms and motioned to his wife.

She instantly stepped into his embrace, not bothering to wipe away the tears. She dreamed about being held in his embrace again. It had been weeks and she never doubted that she would one day. Now she was. She could smell the familiar scent of his cologne and could feel his muscles as his arms wrapped around her tighter. She could feel him and smell him again. As if he was never hurt. He was there, right now, holding her.

"I love you, Greggo." She whispered.

"I love you too, Sar."

For the first time since she had found Greg lying motionless on their bed, she felt alive again. Safe. She leaned closer to him and slowly moved her lips to his. When they met, she could not feel him anymore. She couldn't feel his lips. He started to dematerialize right in front of her eyes.

"NO! Greg..." His whole lower half was almost gone. "Don't leave me..." she finished weakly as the rest of him vanished. Like he was made of glass and was shattered, the remaining pieces thrown to oblivion.

She felt a cold rush of air and felt lips against her ear, whispering, "I'll always be with you. Take care of Tara. I love you."

She started sobbing once again. She could hear a faint noise from somewhere. She felt like she was flying through a vortex, the comfort of Greg's arms getting farther and farther away. It was as if she was zooming backwards through a vortex. Blurred lights were around her, as they flew past her. Now she could actually feel wind. Once again, she heard that noise, it was closer though. She was shaking, warms hands on her arm. The noise grew louder, the shaking more insistent and the hands tighter.

Suddenly her dream shattered like a piece of broken glass. She became aware of Tara holding her arm trying to wake her up.

Tara was crying. "Mommy! Wake up! Please wake up!" As soon as Tara saw Sara open her eyes, she collapsed in her arms. "Mommy, you scared me. I thought y-you were gone."

"Oh, Tar. Sweetie, mommy is right here. It is okay. It's okay." She whispered reassuringly, rubbing Tara's back.

Her 'dream' was playing it's self repeatedly in her head. The strange thing was; it did not seem like a dream. It was so real.

The phone rang, causing her to jump. She felt very tired all of a sudden. Like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. She wearily grabbed the phone.

"Sanders."

"Mrs. Sanders? This Doctor Griffin. We have news on your husband." The male voice on the phone told her.

Sara dropped the phone, uttering a small 'thanks.'

Tara stared up at her with worry. "Daddy?"

Looking down at her daughter, she nodded. "They have news. Go get-" Tara was already out the door before Sara could finish. She couldn't help but smile at Tara. She fingered her ring and said to her self, "Greg, please be alright. I need you. I cannot go on without you. Tara needs a father."

Shaking her head, she changed and grabbed her keys and purse.

As she pulled into the hospital parking lot, she took a deep breath. She continued saying the same prayer again and again in her head. Hoping it would be answered. Before she didn't really believe in 'a higher power' but then Greg some how managed to coax her into believing. Now she was praying to that higher power with every fiber in her being that Greg didn't die. She felt a hand tug her shirt and immediately reached down to pick Tara up.

Taking a deep breath, she walked stiffly to the corridor where the other four CSIs sat.

The blinds were pulled down in Greg's room so she couldn't see in. Nevertheless, she knew that the doctor was in there.

Nick was the first one to hug her. He gently pulled Tara out of her mother's arms so the others could hug Sara too. Everyone else hugged her, asked how she was doing, and just tried to make conversation. None of it worked so they gave up and allowed Sara to pace up and down the hallway.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Doctor Griffin exited Greg's room and walked towards them.

She stood up as Doctor Griffin drew nearer, holding Tara in her arms. Her stomach was knotting. She couldn't read his expression. So she stood nervously in front of him as he began his news.

"Mrs. Sanders, I'm sorry. Your husband did not make it. Is there's anything I can do?"

Grissom took over the conversation with Doctor Griffin.

Sara was not paying attention. She couldn't say anything. She couldn't form words. Instead her legs turned to jelly beneath her.

She fell to her knees. Her arms fell limp to her side as she stared. Tara turned in Sara's arms and hugged her mother.

He is gone. Greg is gone. No more midnight 'pillow talk', no more doing stuff, no more showers together, no more sleeping in and cuddling instead of work. No more Greg.

Amazingly, not one tear came to her eyes as she thought this. She knew she was still in shock. She didn't start crying until she felt a damp spot on her shirt from Tara's tears. That unleashed the waterfall of tears. She turned and buried her head in Tara's hair and began sobbing.

Nick knelt by her side and timidly wrapped his arms around the two sobbing female Sanders. He looked up at the team, a lost look on his face. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he observed the sight before him.

Warrick was holding Catherine in his arms as she sobbed in his shoulder, occasionally reaching up to wipe away his own tears.

Sitting on one of the couches with Catherine and Warrick's 4-year-old son, Lucus, was Lindsay, at a mature and (pristine) 18, also reduced to crying like she was seven again. She had always adored Greg. So his death hit her just as hard.

Close to them were a few other lab techs and Brass who were all crying as well.

Grissom was off to the side, mourning in his own little way. He would miss that zany, hyperactive, lab-rat-turned-field-mouse-turned-father-and-husband, Greg. He was like the son Grissom never had. As Sara was the daughter, Tara the granddaughter, he never had. They were his family, though one gone, and it pained him to see Sara come apart like that. He stood and looked at Nick.

"Nicky, wait for a moment and I'll help you get Sara and Tara home, kay? Make sure they have everything they need. I'm going to come back here, though, so I can take care of Gre-" His voice faltered for a moment before he cleared it and went on. "I'll take care of Greg." He turned to the family in front of him. "Catherine, Warrick, go home. Lucus needs to get home." When

Catherine opened her mouth to reply, Warrick simply shook his head and pulled his family to the exit.

Grissom motioned for everyone to leave.

Brass hesitated at the door and said, "Sara, we are going to catch this frickin' bastard that did this. Don't you worry." and with that he left as well.

Grissom walked over to Nick, pulled Tara out of Sara's arms, and hoisted her into his arms. Her arms instantly wrapped around his neck and she sighed in her sleep.

"Let's go, Nicky." Grissom whispered.

Nodding, Nick kneeled and wrapped an arm around Sara's waist, lifting his friend off the floor. "Come on, Sar. Let's go home."

"Greg?" She mumbled tiredly.

Grissom and Nick's hearts broke at her single word. Nick chose not to respond and continued to carry her to the car.

--

A couple days later

Sara attended the funeral. Greg's parents were there, his brothers and sisters. Her own brother, whom Greg bonded with the last time they were in San Francisco, was there, all of LVPD and the Crime Lab. Even Ecklie was there.

She stood off in to the distance, Greg, her dream, Tara; all of it clouded her mind. She did not realize the funeral was over until everybody started wishing her the best, hugging and kissing her, offering their help and condolences.

Jacob walked over to "Bye, sis. If you ever need anything, call me!" He told her earnestly.

She nodded and he left.

The graveyard was deserted except for the team and Greg's parents. Each team member walked up to her, whispering words of comfort.

Greg's mother was the last person to leave.

Cheryl Sanders walked over to her and pulled her into a tight hug. "Sara, don't dwell for too long. You cannot. You have Tara to take care of. She might not have a father but don't let her lose her mother, too." She told Sara gently before moving away.

"I know." Sara replied simply.

"That's a good girl. Remember if you ever need anything just call." Cheryl leaned forward and gave Sara another tight hug and a quick kiss on the cheek before turning and heading towards her and Tom's car.

"Cheryl wait!" Sara called suddenly. Greg's mother turned back. "Could you take Tara for a while?"

"Of course, sweetie. Just bring her down to the car when you're ready." Cheryl said kindly and started the long walk down.

"Thank you." Sara whispered. She looked at the Greg's grave and it was as if her heart broke all over again at the sight of her daughter.

Tara was kneeling in front of Greg's grave. She was whispering her own little prayer in Norwegian. Then she set down Mr. Snuggles down on the ground. She leaned forward and gently placed her lips on the stone, kissing Greg goodbye.

Sara sniffled. Tara's words and actions touched her deeply. A four-year-old with so much emotion.

"Daddy, I miss you. Can't you come back? I don't wanna grow up without you. Please daddy? I want you to read me "The Giving Tree" again!"

Suddenly the sky opened and the rain poured.

Sara's face was no longer dry, tears overflowing and splashing as they met the ground. The rain soaked through her clothes and she inched her way over to Tara slowly. Tara was shivering as she continued to kneel there. The tears showing no sign of stopping.

Kneeling next to Tara Sara said, "Tara, honey, you're going to stay with Grammy and Grandpa for a few days, okay?" Tara nodded slightly. "Okay. Come on, honey." Sara grabbed her hand to pull her up but Tara pulled away. She flung her arms around the headstone, a hard defiant look appearing in her teary eyes. Sara leaned down and tried to unclench her grasp. "Mommy, I don't want to leave Daddy! I want to stay with daddy! No!" she cried as she was pulled away. Sara did not move towards the car though, instead she pulled Tara into an embrace and whispered soothingly to her. When Tara was finally calmed down Sara carried her to the car, strapped her in and headed back to Greg.

Sara waited until she was sure the car pulled out of the parking lot before turning to Greg's headstone. She sat in front of it, not caring that her clothes were getting muddy.

"Greg, I know I'm not suppose to "dwell" but I…just…I don't know how to carry on living. I know I have to be strong for Tara but I-I-" Her voice cracked, cutting off any more words. They became her tears, flowing down the cold gray headstone like a waterfall. "Greg, I love you."

A pair of tiny arms wrapped around her and squeezed with all their might.

Sara turned slowly and came face to face with a soaked Tara.

"Mommy, I want to cry with you. Can I cry too?" She asked softly.

Tara's question confused Sara just a little bit and the concern of Tara getting a cold or how she got back nagged her. However, it all disappeared when Tara looked up at her with Greg's large brown eyes.

"Of course, honey. You can cry. You don't have to be strong, it'll be okay." She assured her. Sara pulled Tara into her lap and held onto her as if she would vanish.

"I love you Mommy."

"I love you too, Tar."

"I love you, daddy.

The wind picked up and Sara felt a chill settle around her. Suddenly it was by her ear, and she could have sworn that she heard a voice, Greg's voice, tickled it gently as he whispered, "I love you, darling. Don't ever forget I'll always be here."

Then like tornado, it was gone, leaving the warm summer rain to caress her skin again.

She stood up, looking around. "Greg…?" she called feebly, hoping back some miracle he was there. Her heart knew that he was not. He could not be. It was just her mind playing tricks on her, wanting to believe her husband was not dead. When she strained her ears, there was nothing. It was all lost in the wind.

She sat back down and pulled Tara into her arms again. Tara went willingly.

And so there they sat; Mother and Daughter, both letting their sorrow and pain out like the tears on their face.

The only refuge from the storm of death was each other.

And it always will be.

THE END

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A/n: Man, I was_ bawling_ by the time I finished this. Please review. No flames please. 


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